


Beds, Baths and Black Cakes

by fleaflofloyd



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:19:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24125020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleaflofloyd/pseuds/fleaflofloyd
Summary: Valerie's leans in further, eyes regarding Lucille."There's your mesmerising, wondrous ocean blue eyes, the depths of which no deep-sea diver could ever hope to reach."Valerie coos. "That was very descriptive.""Hush now," Lucille tells her quietly, leaning in further. "I'm about to get to the best part."Valerie's eyebrows raise in anticipation. They're breathing the same air now, poised on the verge."Which is?" It's a whisper.--------------------A sequel to 'I Never Thought I'd Be The One (To Be Saving You)'. Please read that first if you have not. This was supposed to be a short oneshot. So much for that.
Relationships: Lucille Anderson/Valerie Dyer
Comments: 7
Kudos: 39





	Beds, Baths and Black Cakes

She's been hearing the joint squeak for the better part of two months, well aware every movement is causing it to further loosen, to further worsen. 

Now the flaming thing's gone and broken on her.

Valerie eyes the cracked wood of the bed leg, annoyance growing.

She'll be lucky if she can sleep on it tonight.

Her frustration erupts and she kicks at the leg, snapping it completely, sending it clanging against the wall. The bed sways dangerously on the three remaining.

She should've gotten it fixed ages ago.

She would've if she was anyone else.

If they weren't resorting to dragging their beds together to be together, then dragging them back in the morning.

Valerie sinks to her knees, feeling the pain in her leg, looking at the broken one in front of her.

_The doctors can't plaster that back together._

\---

"Valerie? Are you alright?"

She snaps her head up from her kneeled spot between the beds. Trixie is poised in the doorway, confused and concerned.

"I broke my bed."

Her friend steps closer and leans over what was once her own to see the problem.

"Well, I suppose that explains the noise."

Valerie uses Lucille's bed to stand. Feels her calf muscle pull painfully with the motion. She grabs her walking cane to balance with as she waits for it to ease.

"Take something for it, before it gets worse." Trixie's voice is undemanding but clear.

Valerie nods, knowing she won't. "It'll be back to normal soon enough."

Trixie's lips turn up. "You said the same about your hair, and look at it now. Halfway to your shoulders."

Val's hand reflexively goes to smooth the longer strands over the shorter ones. The nurses had shaved the area that night. It's a habit she'd picked up the moment the bandage and gauze had been removed and she'd seen the four-inch scar in all its horrifying, prickly glory.

Her Mum and Lucille had helped her restyle her hair that day. Val's kept it mostly flat since. No bounce. To help hide the wound.

Most of it.

There's a fingernail's worth always visible at her hairline. It's a reminder every day of how close she'd come to dying that night.

_That bowling ball head of yours._

"No need to fix your hair sweetie, it's fine. Unlike your bed. Perhaps you could ask Fred for his help."

The thought fills her with fear.

"I'd have to lie to his face about the reason it's broken and I'm trying not to do that any more than necessary."

"You could tell him the rest of it," Trixie suggests. "He wouldn't breathe a word of it to anyone else."

Valerie shakes her head. "He would to Mrs Buckle, and since she's on the council..."

Trixie and Phyllis know. Her Mum knows. Charlie and Richard guessed. Cyril too. The Sisters have worked out, with varying degree, something deeper has happened between her and Lucille since the hospital. Sister Julienne had spoken of separating their professional life from their personal one. Of being careful.

But Fred does not know. Because a slip of the tongue to his wife could cost her and Lucille their jobs.

Lucille's, specifically.

She won't have that.

Trixie seems to understand her hesitance. "I'm sorry that's the case. People should be able to love who they choose."

Valerie smiles sadly. "If I was free to do that, I wouldn't have a broken bed."

"At least your heart chose well."

The thought of Lucille settles the sadness. 

"It did, didn't it?" 

\---

Valerie's lying on Lucille's bed reading when she appears, shutting the door. She's freshly bathed for the first call of night duty, smiling at Val in that small way of hers. 

_Exquisite_ , Val thinks, her uncle's copy of _Better Angel_ losing her attention. 

She's already looked past her to the weird angle of the other bed. 

"I guess it finally broke then." 

"It was inevitable."

She doesn't tell her she contributed to the damage.

Lucille retrieves her shoes and motions for Valerie to move her legs so she can sit. She knows something is wrong when Val is too slow shifting her left one. 

"How bad is it?" 

Valerie sighs. "You're too perceptive for your own good." 

"You mean for your own good. Tell me." 

"Two." 

_On a scale of one to ten, how cold are you right now?_

Valerie remembers her words from seven months ago. That had been the start of their system, Lucille continuing the questioning in the hospital when Val struggled to verbalise her pain.

Her stiff upper lip has already lead to a fight. 

She won't let that happen tonight. 

Val sits up and swings her legs down, easing herself to sit beside Lucille. Her leg aches but she's had worse. 

She draws Lucille's hand into her lap. 

"Since I'm down a bed tonight and my wonky leg can't get me up the attic steps, I was hoping we could share. Again." 

"Are _you_ going to be the one falling out of bed tonight to get away from your snoring?" 

Valerie grins quickly, then schools her features into something serious at Lucille's glare. She can see a sparkle of amusement in brown eyes too. She pulls Lucille's hand up to her lips and drops a kiss on her knuckles. 

"I promise to do my very best not to assault your ears with my freight train breathing. Just put a pillow over my head if I do." 

Lucille shakes her head a little and smiles. "I'm quite attached to your head."

"Oh really?" Valerie's voice sweetens. "What is it that you like about it?" 

"Oh, I don't know...there's your lovely jawline." Lucille reaches up to slide her fingers along the underside of it. "Your gracious chin." She taps it gently. "Your elegant nose." A light grab between fingers, eliciting a chuckle. 

Valerie's leans in further, eyes regarding Lucille. 

"There's your mesmerising, wondrous ocean blue eyes, the depths of which no deep-sea diver could ever hope to reach." 

Valerie coos. "That was very descriptive." 

"Hush now," Lucille tells her quietly, leaning in further. "I'm about to get to the best part." 

Valerie's eyebrows raise in anticipation. They're breathing the same air now, poised on the verge. 

"Which is?" It's a whisper. 

"Your lovely, lovely, dedicated mouth. The one that loves to eat apple pie and custard." 

Valerie starts and stumbles over the unexpected words. 

She sees Lucille laughing, asking, "Downstairs to eat it, or stay here and kiss me?" 

_Oh._

_Two can play at that game._

Valerie reaches for her cane and stands. "Think I'll go get some dessert." 

"Don't you dare." Lucille stands and pulls her back, eagerly kissing her as they tip backwards. 

They fall off the bed, Valerie landing on her back with Lucille safely on top. 

"See?" Lucille gets out between kisses. "Not. Fun." 

Valerie hums into her mouth, disagreeing. 

\---

They end up on the couch, later on, Lucille poised with one ear on the phone as they share the last remaining slice.

"Not one iota of custard left. I swear Sister Monica Joan's a bloodhound for sugar."

Lucille laughs, feeding her a spoonful.

Valerie's heart warms at the realisation she's getting more than her fair share.

It's finished way too quickly, in any case. Lucille sets the bowl on the side table. Valerie sinks into her side, an arm wrapping itself over her shoulder.

"We could throw the mattresses together on the floor," Lucille jokingly suggests a few minutes later, voice low as her fingers card through Valerie's hair. 

"While we're at it, we could hang a couple of sheets off the wardrobe and bed ends and turn it into a proper pillow fort. I probably won't be able to get back up off the floor in the morning, but what a way to go." 

"You are definitely too old for that." 

"Oi." Valerie slaps her hand against Lucille's waist. "I'm only a few years older than you." 

"You aged badly in the hospital," Lucille quips, voice light. 

Then the air shifts. Valerie feels the weight of the experience bear down on them unexpectedly. The hand in her hair stills. 

Lucille's gaze has retreated towards the kitchen. Valerie lifts her hand to her cheek, gently directing it towards her. Lucille's eyes find hers, frightful.

"I'm okay, Lu. I'm here." 

Brown eyes soften, slowly. 

Val won't ever know exactly what it had been like. All she has to go on is that look of anguish she sees sometimes on Lucille's face. On her Mum's face. Trixie had filled her in on their frames of mind when Val's frustrations had boiled over one day towards the middle of January, the pain she'd been dealing with getting the better of her. 

_"Those two women went through hell with you--don't you dare take it out on them."_

Lucille's fear of something happening to her had flared up again in March when Val had made the mistake of getting on her bike the day after her cast had been removed. She'd bruised her shoulder and her ego in the resulting fall, her leg nowhere near ready for pedalling. 

Their fight afterwards -- and the silence that had lasted a week between them -- had scared Valerie enough to keep her away from the bike shed. 

It told her all she needed to know about Lucille's fear, and what her hospital stay had felt like for her. It breaks her heart that it'll always be a memory for Lucille to deal with. 

"I'm here," Val says, brushing her thumb over Lucille's cheek. There's wetness there all of a sudden. Brown eyes have watered. "I'm doing my best to make sure it stays that way. Tell me you know that." 

"I do," Lucille replies, voice thick. 

"I can't have you crying on duty." Valerie wipes at both her cheeks, smiling, hoping its a reassuring gesture. "Phyllis will recite the entire nursing handbook to me." 

Lucille chuckles, leaning into her touch. Leaning towards her. 

"I love you. I'm not going anyw--" 

The phone rings. 

"I guess I am," Lucille says, as they both extricate themselves and stand. 

Valerie follows behind. Hears that it's Mr Dexter, calling to say Denise is in labour. Lucille is calm and measured, her emotions settled. 

She hasn't got far to ride. Ten minutes at most. 

Valerie wipes her cheeks clean. Helps her button her cape. Kisses her quickly before stepping out with her onto the front porch. The late July night is warm. 

"Be careful," she says.

"I will." 

Valerie watches her ride away, disappearing into the night. 

\---

Her injuries had been explained, once the doctors had found she'd suffered no lasting brain injury or spinal cord damage. The broken ribs, damaged lung, broken leg and headaches had, at the time, felt like the equivalent of a miracle. Sister Monica Joan and Lucille had said as much to her. 

The frustration had come later, laid up with nothing to do but heal. It had seemed an inconceivable task for a Dyer to do, but she'd managed it, with huge amounts of patience from everyone around her. Trixie had knocked some sense into her too, which, looking back, she was grateful for. 

She was grateful to still be here. She'd been very close to dying from that secondary infection in her leg. Dr Turner was of the opinion it had weakened the bones and muscles in the area considerably, once Valerie had admitted she was having trouble. She could walk without the cane for short periods of time, but being active and on her feet for work meant a great deal of soreness by the end of the day. Dr Turner was worried the displacement of weight on her leg would lead to unnecessary knee problems in the future. 

So the stick went everywhere with her. The younger children were fascinated with it at the clinic. She'd tie a few pink bows to the top of it every morning and claim she was Little Bo-Peep, looking for her sheep. If the girls behaved, she'd tie their hair up with a bow and send them on their way. If the boys behaved, she'd give them a candy cane from her stash. Mrs Buckle appreciated the extra business from her, while Phyllis had wondered out loud how much Val's generosity was costing her. 

It was good to give back.

She got to wake up beside the woman she loved. She got to kiss her goodnight.

The accident had left her with a rickety leg and occasional head pain, but she and Lucille had found each other in the aftermath. Valerie figured she could handle that if the result was a happy life with her. 

The world could have all the bows and candy canes it wanted in exchange for that.

\---

"--like a chainsaw." 

Valerie half wakes to the sound of Lucille's voice, feeling the bed dip as she settles beside her under the sheet. 

An arm wraps around her. 

"Make-i-u-to..." she gets out before sleep carries her away. 

\---

She comes back to Nonnatus early, an unfortunate headache beating over her ear. The house is quieter than the clinic at this time, Phyllis insisting she rest and get back to it tomorrow.

She finds Lucille in the hallway upstairs, looking--

Caught out.

Something is--

"You weren't going to be back till five," Lucille says, distracted by a sound in their room. 

"It should be easy enough to fix," a voice says. "Although that doesn't solve the original probl..."

Cyril trails off, his eyes finding a distracted Lucille as he exits their room. He looks up at Valerie then. 

"What's going on?" It comes off Val's tongue a little accusatory. 

Maybe she's justified in that, she thinks. 

Lucille has heard it, her eyes narrowing. 

"I asked Cyril if he could fix the bed--my books can't prop it up forever."

Her head is aching.

"I'm the one who caused it," Val states, walking towards her. "It was my problem to deal with." 

"I can repair it, Nurse Dyer," Cyril tells her. "I just need to bring some things with me next time." 

"And when we're you planning to do this?" Valerie squeezes her hand into a fist, feeling irritated all of a sudden. "The next time Sister Julienne is away from the nest?"

He's alarmed by her tone.

Valerie looks at Lucille. "She asked us for discretion."

"And Sister Julienne is getting it, Val." She's exasperated at her. "Cyril gave me his word months ago. We need the bed fixed and he's our best hope."

"I'm going to go," he says quickly to Lucille. "Can I phone you about this tomorrow?"

Valerie watches as she nods.

"I'll see you out."

Lucille brushes past Valerie, pointedly ignoring her.

Cyril steps around her, turning back to her before saying, "You have my word as well, Nurse Dyer."

Valerie sees he's serious.

The guilt that comes over her isn't as strong as her pride.

She turns on her heel and leaves the apology on her lips unsaid.

\---

She washes down the tablets with an inch of rum, feeling it burn all the way.

She just wants a bath and bed.

She's poured herself another when the door swings open and shuts loudly behind her.

"That was so impudent, Valerie. What's the matter with you?"

She can hear the anger in Lucille's voice.

Valerie throws the alcohol back and carelessly sets the glass back to its spot, hearing it clink loudly. She doesn't turn around.

"I have a headache. Can we do this later?"

"You seem to be managing a mid-afternoon drink just fine."

Valerie turns then, one hand holding her walking stick, the other held out to the side in silent question. "Well, if you've got something to say, then say it."

Lucille's jaw hardens. 

A moment of silence passes between them, Valerie's head pounding. She can see Lucille thinking, some internal process going on inside her. Then, a barely perceptible drop in her shoulders.

"Go have a bath," she tells Val quietly. "I'll be in to wash your hair soon."

All at once, the fire building in Valerie extinguishes.

They haven't done that since March, when her cast had come off. Not since their fight.

She got to see Lucille in other ways now, but that had been...

That had been the start of them. 

That was where she'd learnt to let her in. Where she'd learnt to let her guard down.

Lucille knows it. Is counting on it now.

"Too perceptive..." Valerie whispers.

"For your own good, yes...someone once told me that. Go on, I'll be there soon."

\---

The hot water soothes her immediately, her bones melting into her muscles, sinking right out of her pores.

She'd had months worth of pain and discomfort at the start of the year. Her chest had burned and her leg had ached and itched and she'd hated every minute of it. 

Lucille helping her bathe had eased that hate into something more manageable. She'd grown to love that half-hour; spent all day looking forward to it; found inner strength she didn't know she had to get herself through the hurt, through the day to it.

Valerie sinks further down into the bath, water filling her ears as her knees break the surface.

_"You can't break up with him--he's a good man, Lucille. He loves you."_

_"But he isn't you."_

She'd been left speechless in her hospital bed at that. Lucille had told her about reading the letter. About realizing why her heart had sped up underneath those fireworks. They'd both known it was love, but they'd put it aside to concentrate on Valerie getting better.

The promise of it beginning once she left the hospital had sustained her for weeks. The promise had bled into a delicious tension between the two of them, heightened every time by Valerie's state of undress and Lucille's closeness.

And as cliche as it was, the tension had boiled over on Valentine's Day. One unguarded look of desire from Lucille was all it took for Valerie to reach up and kiss her over the rim of the bathtub. Melting bath suds had clung to both of them, Lucille's cardigan sleeves soaking wet and Valerie nearly dropping her foot in the water. They'd kissed hungrily. It had been incredibly intimate, and Valerie's wanted more ever since. 

Except--

They were waiting.

They were waiting without ever having agreed on it.

Part of her had expected it. 

Back before Cyril, Lucille had hinted to her belief that marriage came before anything else. She was dedicated to her faith. That hadn't changed. Lucille had stopped going to the Palmer's residence, but she went to morning prayer with the Sisters, and still said her prayers every night. 

They've kissed for hours. Felt each other over their bedclothes countless times. Valerie's become completely enamoured with Lucille's bare legs, now that summer has come. But she always pulled back at the hem of Lucille's nightie. Always. 

It's been forever since Sally. 

It's been a long time since that drunken night with the kind-eyed sailor, who'd been trying to prove something to himself just as she had been. 

She isn't going to push Lucille in regards to sex. Not now and not ever.

Val lets her head sink down underneath the water and holds her breath.

But there's no wedding in sight for them. No symbolic day to look forward to. No way of promising themselves to each other in the eyes of the church, the way she knew Lucille wanted.

She comes up for air, gasping a little. Wipes her hair from her eyes. 

At least Lucille had seen her naked. She can't say the same in return. She's reminded of those moments every time she takes a bath. She's touched herself before in the quickly cooling water to those memories. 

She craved it.

But she wasn't going to push.

Which meant her frustration came out in other ways.

Towards people who didn't deserve it.

Towards things she couldn't control.

She's going to have to talk to Lucille about it now.

Valerie sinks herself back into the water, closing her eyes but not her mouth. She lets slow bubbles go upwards towards the air, wishing she could break free the same way.

\---

Lucille's blurry form appears through the water on her fourth submerging. Valerie sits up, gasping a little, noting Lucille's worry and the way her hands have gripped the tub.

"I'm sorry, Luce--I'll call Cyril and apologise."

Lucille's hands loosen, her brown eyes settling as she sits back on her legs. A hand reaches into the water to find Valerie's left one.

"Tell me what's going on--start with a number if you have to, but I need to know."

Valerie thinks about it for a moment.

"My headache's a three, but everything else..."

Lucille waits quietly for her to continue.

"The bed leg cracked, but then I kicked it and made it worse. I'm annoyed I can't talk to Fred about it. I'm annoyed that we had to leave it because he's a clever man and would've worked out why we were shuffling the bed around. I hate that I snore and you need the extra room to get away from me."

"You only snore on your back--and I never want to get away from you. I'm just a light sleeper. It doesn't matter what the noise is. Maybe I'll try the wax again."

"No--don't get another ear infection because of me, that was horrible. I don't like you being unwell." 

Lucille squeezes her hand. "How do you think I feel when you are? When you do silly things, like kick beds?" 

Valerie sighs. "I wish we could get a double."

"One day we will."

They're both aware that day might be coming sooner than they expect. 

"Sometimes I can't get to sleep 'cos I'm worrying so much about what's going to happen to Nonnatus."

Lucille draws her arm along the edge of the bath and leans her chin on it. "I know, and I'm with you. Whatever happens in December, we'll deal with it together, okay? I just need you to deal with your emotions better. Kicking things and taking it out on Cyril when he's just trying to help is not appropriate. I love you, but I'm not going to take your side if that happens again."

Valerie nods her understanding.

They regard each other for a long moment.

"Thank you for suggesting this," Valerie whispers. "And for your patience." Her eyes water unexpectedly. "You've been so wonderful to me..."

Lucille sits up and draws her hand to Val's cheek, wiping an escaped tear away. "Hey, no tears now. You're very easy--mostly--to be wonderful to."

Valerie leans forward and kisses her slowly.

She needs to talk to her about the other thing bothering her before it's too late.

Before it festers any more.

Valerie draws her lips back, their noses touching. Lucille's hand is still at her cheek.

"Lu, something else has been..."

She reaches up to gently pull that hand down, laughing a little when they both realise they've crisscrossed their arms. 

"Tell me as I do your hair?"

Valerie nods.

\---

She stumbles her way through an explanation, so lost in saying the right thing that she doesn't realise Lucille's hands have stilled in her hair until shampoo is stinging her eyes.

Valerie brushes a hand up over her forehead and turns towards her.

Their eyes meet and Valerie knows she's made a mistake.

"Just forget I said anything--it's been a tiring day and I don't know what--"

"Val--"

"Honestly, it's fine if we--"

"I want to," Lucille says, her voice raised to be heard.

Valerie stops, stunned. 

Her eyes are hurting now. She rubs at them.

Lucille understands and fills the jug with the bathwater. "Tilt your head back--keep those eyes open."

She does as she's told and blinks in the pouring water, trying to dispel the irritation.

"Again?"

Valerie gets the impression Lucille needs the distraction for the moment.

She nods, and they go through it twice more. 

She'll let Lucille speak first. Valerie watches her patiently as she pours conditioner into her hand.

"I've been thinking about it too," Lucille tells her quietly, hands coming back to her hair. "The circumstances of my life have changed now."

Valerie closes her eyes to the gentle ministrations of Lucille's fingers as her love concentrates on what she's doing.

"Propriety for what's right--what's perceived to be right," Lucille corrects herself, "kind of went out the window when I fell in love with you."

Valerie opens her eyes and catches Lucille's gaze. She widens her eyes comically and Valerie falls all over again.

"You did know I'm in love with you, right?" Lucille's voice is full of humour. She starts tapping Val's head with her fingers. "This bowling ball of yours isn't that impenetrable."

"Et tu, Brute?" Valerie questions, shaking her head, feigning hurt.

Lucille just laughs. Continues washing Valerie's hair.

Valerie lifts her arms out of the water and settles them along the bath edge. Her skin is wrinkling now. Looking at her left hand, she wonders if she'll ever have a ring there. 

She needs a more clear cut answer from Lucille about this.

"Your own belief in what's correct still needs to be considered though."

Lucille grabs the jug and fills it again. "Of course...tilt back, precious." She pours it slowly. "I think our innate senses of what's wrong and right line up more than you think they do."

She keeps pouring, easing the conditioner away from Valerie's head down her back.

"So...you'd be open to--" Valerie takes the jug off her, "--going a little further with me?"

Lucille meets her look, certain. "Yes. Maybe not quite to the finish line yet, but--maybe we could work our way towards it."

"Of course--it's a marathon, not a sprint."

Lucille chuckles. Leans further away to pull the plug. "Okay, Ann Packer--your first job is to get the bed fixed. Then we'll go from there."

Valerie stands carefully, letting Lucille help her out of the bath.

She notices Lucille's breath hitch as she comes closer.

The marathon won't be long, she thinks. 

She feels lighter, somehow, a little more like those bubbles breaking the surface.

\---

Valerie phones Cyril later that night. 

He accepts her apology. 

They get to talking about Lucille.

"I'm really glad she can still rely on you," Valerie admits quietly.

"She's a wonderful friend. Things are exactly the way they should be." 

His voice is steadfast and strong.

Valerie smiles.

They say their goodbyes with a plan for the weekend.

\---

"Sister, I was wondering if I could have a word with you..."

Sister Julienne smiles up at her from her desk, waving her in.

Valerie closes the door with a click and sits down opposite her. The room is warm, the curtains blowing from the open window. Her shutting the door will not help the circulation, but Mrs Buckle is in the kitchen and Valerie needs the privacy, should her voice drift. 

The Sister seems to understand the move, standing to close the window for the time being.

"Sorry, Sister--I know it's hot."

"We will prevail," she replies kindly, settling back down in her seat.

She's been so kind these last few months. She'd spoken up for Valerie when talk of her employment had been discussed. She'd defended her when Mother Mildred had doubts. She'd let her stay here for her recovery, and allowed her to work her way from light duties back to something normal. 

Valerie owes her a great deal of respect. 

It doesn't make the conversation any easier to start.

_Start with the facts._

"In the process of moving my bed, I've damaged one of the legs to the point where it can't be used. I've asked Cyril to come tomorrow to fix it. He seems to be sure he can do so."

"Those beds are incredibly sturdy, Nurse..."

Her voice trails off, the correct assumption silently made.

Valerie swallows and looks down at the desk edge.

"Since you asked Lucille and me for discretion, I thought it necessary to tell you Cyril has been a part of her and I's confidence since my hospital stay. Fred, on the other hand, is not. Given Mrs Buckle is on the council..."

"Any perceived illicit behaviour by a Nurse or Nurses is likely to draw the attention of both the council and the mother house, Nurse Dyer."

"Yes, I'm aware of this. We're being careful."

"I'm afraid I must insist on it, as your employer. I've allowed you and Nurse Anderson to share a room as she was assisting you in your recovery, but if more problems arise from your...cohabitation, then I will ask Nurse Franklin to switch back. Mr Buckle is not to be told. You will reimburse Mr Robinson for his time."

Valerie sighs, but nods. She stands quickly.

"Nurse Dy--Valerie...as your friend, I'm glad you are healthy now and happy. Please know my concerns about the situation are from a practical standpoint, as opposed to a spiritual one. The Lord provides love in many forms."

"We're grateful for your understanding, Sister. Thank you for letting Lucille attend prayer--I know she misses the social atmosphere of church."

"Nurse Anderson is always welcome. As are you."

Valerie opens the window for the Sister, feeling the relief of the cooler breeze on her face.

"Lovely, isn't it?"

"It is."

\---

"You sure you don't want tea or coffee? " Valerie asks Cyril, walking with him towards the stairs. "I think there are some mint biscuits in the cupboard Sister Monica Joan doesn't like." 

"I'm fine, Nurse Dyer--I have a bit of work to do." 

He smiles kindly. 

Valerie returns it. "I think you and I can dispense with the titles now."

"Of course--Valerie it is, then." 

She and Lucille have moved the mattress and the side tables away, the room looking like a jumbled mess. 

By the time Valerie comes back to check on him, he's turned both beds on their sides and is fitting a brass caster wheel to the bottom of one of Lucille's bed legs. 

"Cyril, I didn't realise you were..." 

Valerie sees seven other wheels on the floor near him. She feels her heart quicken at the fact he must know the extent of what she and Lucille have been doing with their beds. 

He looks to her and must see something in her face because he stills. 

"Forgive me for my forward-thinking, Valerie. I believe another snapped leg would've occurred in the future. The wheels will stop this from happening. I also bought two latches so the beds will stay together, so that will not be a problem either." 

Valerie feels her chest bloom with affection for him. 

"Cyril, you must tell me the cost of them so I ca--"

"There's no need for that." He pulls a nail from the pocket of his overalls. "Your continued care of Lucille is all I ask for. " 

Valerie feels her eyes water a little. 

He smiles at her. 

"Well, I'm paying you something, or Sister Julienne will have my head." 

"How about Lucille bakes me a few black cakes, hmm?" 

"That's not enough, Cyril. Those brass wheels must've--" 

"My engineering classmate works at the hardware shop on Macintosh Road--the price was greatly reduced. I'll be happy with the cakes. Honestly." 

"That's not a fair outcome for you." 

"Sure it is. Have you seen how much rum costs in this country?" 

She smiles. They share a laugh. 

"Are you sure?" 

He grins with his teeth. "Yes. You look after Lucille and help her with those cakes and we'll be square."

Valerie steps around the wheels and leans up to kiss him carefully on the cheek. 

"You're a good man, Cyril Robinson." 

"And you're a kind, strong woman, Nurse Dyer."

She points a gentle finger at him. 

"Valerie Dyer," he corrects. 

\---

She steps out of the room and into the bathroom. Locks the door behind her. Sits on the bathtub. 

Cries quickly and efficiently, before reapplying her makeup. 

\---

"I think I'll marry Cyril," Valerie teases after seeing him out, laughing when Trixie chokes on her tea in the kitchen.

"How very modern of you and Lucille," Phyllis adds from the sink. 

Valerie pats Trix on the back and takes a jammy dodger from the biscuit tin. 

\--- 

Lucille returns from her unexpected birth late in the afternoon, practically flopping down on her bed. It moves slightly on the carpet. 

Valerie smiles at her from behind her book, waiting for her to notice Cyril's handiwork. It takes a moment, but then Lucille's lifting her head, looking at the formerly snapped leg, then ducking her head to see her own. 

She looks at Valerie. "There's wheels." 

"There are wheels. You owe Cyril three--no, four black cakes. Maybe five. Six maximum. Definitely."

"Your consumption of our rum will have to stop entirely."

"I guess that's the price I pay for love." 

Valerie settles the book on her table, moving to the end of Lucille's bed. Lucille turns over and pulls the pillow underneath her head, looking at her as Valerie starts untying her shoelaces. 

"Miss Jensen and baby okay?" 

"Yes. She did incredibly well with the fact Simon didn't seem to want to come out. He got going eventually." Lucille yawns, closing her eyes. 

There's no way Val hasn't kept her from a good nights sleep with her snoring in their close proximity.

_Thank you, Cyril._

Valerie eases her love's shoes off and sets them on the bed beside her. Wraps her fingers around Lucille's stockinged left foot, needling gently. 

Lucille hums her appreciation. "You're too good to me." 

"It's the least I can do...hush now." 

She works her way up Lucille's foot, switching to the other, continuing the massage as Lucille's breathing softens and evens out into sleep. 

"You're the best part of me," Valerie quietly tells her. 

\---

She marvels at the ease with which she can move her bed. The clasps are hidden on the underside of the bed frame, but still within reach. They're sturdy. 

Her and Lucille will not have any trouble. Wherever her love is. 

Ten pm comes and goes, then eleven. Valerie's concentration on Kurt Gray dwindles the more the minutes go by, until she's sitting up, feet stilling on the carpet. 

_She's probably keeping Sister Frances company._

Something gnaws at her, despite the thought. 

_"Okay, Ann Packer--your first job is to get the bed fixed. Then we'll go from there."_

Valerie straightens in her spot. 

The bed. And what was coming after. 

The marathon. 

Her breath catches at the realisation Lucille's probably downstairs, having changed her--

_Well, if she has, then that's fine._

She needs to go find her. 

Valerie slips her dressing gown on and grabs her walking stick, quietly descending through the house. 

Sister Frances is at the kitchen table, looking up at her from her book. 

Compline is in effect. She needs to whisper. 

"Have you seen Lucille?" 

Sister Frances mouths 'chapel' at her, smiling when Val wordlessly thanks her. 

Valerie finds Lucille there, looking at the crucifix on the side altar. The flickering light from the candles are illuminating part of her. She's so effortlessly ethereal that Valerie feels her heart break open in wonderment. 

She's so profoundly in love with her it makes her hurt. It makes her ache, in the complete opposite way her injuries make her ache. It's the best kind of feeling, Valerie realises. 

She will never give it up. 

But she knows something is amiss. 

She needs to help her with it. 

Valerie steps toward her slowly, dragging the cane a little in warning. Lucille looks up at her, but her smile is a second too late. 

Valerie sees something in her hand that the shadows had hidden. 

The letter. 

It's been in a pair of socks in the bottom drawer of the cupboard. Now it's in Lucille's hand, opened up, like-- 

"Hope you're not reading that in this bad light," Valerie states, sitting down opposite her, the stick between her legs. 

"No. Just...thinking."

Lucille doesn't elaborate. Valerie leans forward on her elbows, closing the gap between them. 

She takes an educated guess in the dark. 

"Lu, we don't have to be Ann Packer about this. We can be Ken Matthews if you want, or Mary Rand with her fingers in all the pies. Just because the bed's fixed doesn't mean I'm expecting something from you. I'll be happy just to hold you, the way I always have."

Lucille regards her in the semi-darkness for a long moment, then says, "Terrible sports metaphors aside...can I ask you to do something for me?" 

"Of course--what is it?" 

"Are you able to kneel in front of me?" 

Valerie narrows her eyes, briefly confused, before deciding she will. She lets her weight fall on the stick as she bends forward, settling herself down on her knees, her calf twinging slightly. She looks up at Lucille in front of her. 

"Close your eyes."

Valerie does.

"You'll tell me if some spider or insect comes crawling at me, right?" 

Lucille hushes her quietly. 

Valerie can hear her breathing, sensing her moving, hearing the fabric of her dressing gown shift. 

"I've been thinking a bit about how much my life has changed in the last few months--how much it's changed since I came here to England. Since I met you." 

"For the better, I hope?" 

Valerie feels Lucille lightly pinch her lips together. Hears her huff once, before letting go. Valerie takes the hint. 

"Always for the better, don't you ever doubt that." She's close, right beside Valerie's ear. "Our conversation about what we want from each other made me realise, however, there's something I still want from my old life."

Valerie feels the bottom of her hair brush on both sides as the feel of something settles on her skin. Lucille's breath is there, soothing, wrists touching her shoulders.

A necklace. 

Valerie opens her eyes and dips her head, trying to--

"Hey, you were supposed to--"

"Lucille."

Her necklace and cross are on her skin. Valerie lifts her hands to it, their fingers touching. Her heart has stopped beating.

"Let me finish." Imploring brown eyes are shining with tears.

Valerie feels her own begin to water. She laces her fingers with Lucille's, dropping them into her lap.

"You wrote that letter and set my world alight with possibility. With a love that is yet to find its boundary. You offered me a chance to know who you are with those words of yours. And every day since has felt like a promise for the future. Even in that fight, I knew we were working our way back to each other. But I need you to say it. It's what I want, for the person I was and for who I am now. Before we go any further with the physical."

Lucille reaches back up to touch the cross. 

"So I'm giving you something I've had since I was twelve. Something that's a part of who I am. I'm swearing on it, Valerie Jane Dyer, as a symbol of our love and dedication to each other, and I'm hoping you can do the same."

She's crying quiet tears, Lucille blurring in front of her.

She can.

She will.

The girl in front of her is the love of her life.

And will be for the rest of it.

This can be their moment of dedication to each other. It seems fitting to do it here. 

Valerie squeezes her hands. Smiles through her tears at her.

"Lucille Marie Anderson, I swear it to God."

Lucille's eyes widen in shock in the face of Valerie's sincerity.

"I swear it on whoever or whatever brought you to me--brought me _back_ to you."

Lucille smiles in amongst her tears. Then she's sinking towards Valerie, their arms coming around each other in a hurried mess.

"I'll buy you something special for your birthday," Valerie tells her, "something worthy of you, something--" 

Lucille draws back and kisses her deeply. 

"Take me upstairs--that's all I want. That's all I want from now on." 

\---

They ascend the stairs, holding hands. 

The marathon begins slowly, Valerie running in second, Lucille guiding her, their clothes falling away as they kiss.

Hands go everywhere they can touch, feeling warm skin. 

"Did you do this with Sally?" 

Lucille asks it right as Valerie's easing her down to the bed. Her skin is sparking, the feel of Lucille against her sending signals to the middle of her.

"Fumbles in the dark," Valerie says, kissing the underside of Lucille's jaw. "In the cold...cramped." She draws her thumb over Lucille's nipple, testing, hearing Lucille's breath catch quietly.

"Nothing like this, Lu...nothing like you."

She draws up and kisses the question away. Fumbles the sheet over them for added protection.

\---

Arms have wrapped themselves around her middle, Valerie feeling fingertips along her back as she slowly arches into Lucille.

Her hand is inching closer, sliding up a golden thigh.

She'll stop if Lucille says.

The fire burning in brown eyes tells her otherwise. The way Lucille's legs have fallen open tell a different story.

Lucille's hand slides around and cups her breast, kneading softly, and Valerie hisses through their kiss.

She's a quick learner.

"You're remarkable," Valerie gets out.

She turns her fingers and drags them gently up Lucille's soft spot. Feels desire pooling in her gut, pooling further down, at the moan she makes.

They'll have to be quiet.

Valerie kisses her and touches her and moves against her like she was made for it.

\---

"I love you."

Lucille breathes it into the air between them, in between soft pants and moans.

It spurs Valerie on, fingers working that little bit faster, reaching a little higher. She keeps her rhythm, palm connected to where Lucille needs it. Her mouth kisses down a neck slowly, over a collarbone, to a pert nipple, her tongue soothing after her teeth tug.

Lucille mewls her appreciation. Her arm falls away from Valerie's chest to her arm, latching, urging her on.

"Faster..."

\---

She feels Lucille's other fingers at the junction of her legs suddenly, searching for purchase. Valerie shifts a little further up, and oh.

Valerie stifles the resulting moan into Lucille's mouth, continuing to cant into her.

\---

Then all there is is movement, the air gone, her name, her life, anything other than Lucille disappearing, just the sweet reaching, reaching up inside of her as she, as she, as she--

She hits the crescendo right with Lucille. Valerie muffles the sound of their climax with a sloppy kiss; feels Lucille clench around her fingers, her own body singing in sweet release at her touch. 

Collapsing on top of Lucille, she tries to catch her breath in the nape of her neck.

Lucille's arms wrap around her.

"Good marathon," she comments, breathing hard. 

Valerie laughs and kisses her skin. "The best."

\---

"--oll over, precious." 

Valerie awakes and does as she's told, only to find she's rolled closer to Lucille. 

Sleepy, blinking eyes are looking back at her. "Hi." 

Valerie smiles. "Hi." 

Brown eyes drop to Val's neck, where she feels the necklace drooping. 

"I won't be offended if you take it off," Lucille says quietly, voice barely above a whisper. 

Valerie leans forward and kisses her softly. Settles back on the pillow, simply taking her in. 

"I'll keep the necklace," she says, pinching the cross between her fingers. "Me suddenly wearing this would kill half my family." 

Lucille smiles, accepting the fact. "And probably Trixie." 

Valerie huffs out a laugh. "Goodness knows we've already thrown enough spanners at her this year." 

"We're very lucky." Lucille draws a finger up through Valerie's hair, right at the scar. "No one more so than you." 

Valerie wraps an arm loosely around her. "You're here with me...I'm absolutely the luckiest girl in the world." 

Lucille kisses her in reply.

\---

"Mrs Ravner made us a rhubarb pie," Trixie exclaims as she enters the kitchen, dish in hand.

"Well, someone has to go out and get some custard for that," Valerie says from her spot at the kitchen table.

"It looks lovely," Lucille adds.

"I'm not quite sure you two need any sweets." Trixie sets it on the bench near the fridge. "Those grins have been on your faces all day--you cats have had your cream."

Valerie smirks at Lucille, who grins back. 

Indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> First published in 1933, Better Angel by Forman Brown (under the pseudonym Richard Meeker) was one of the first books about a gay character (Kurt Gray) that had a positive ending.
> 
> "Et tu, Brute?" is a Latin phrase literally meaning 'and you, Brutus?' or 'also you, Brutus?'. The quote appears in William Shakespeare's play Julius Caesar.
> 
> Ann Packer won gold in the 800m and silver in the 400m at the 1964 Tokyo Olympics. Her 800m achievement was referenced in ep 7 of season 8 of Call The Midwife. Ken Matthews won gold in the 20km race walk at the same games. Mary Rand won gold in the long jump, silver in the pentathlon and bronze in the 4x100m relay, also at the same games.


End file.
